My skin warms, a nice flush. A beginning.
But that’s all it is. A beginning.
Not even close to the middle, and what I’m really searching for is the end result.
The peak.
The pinnacle.
The roller coaster finally reaching its highest point and then plunging me down in a heady euphoria.
Shit.
I get up and clean the vibrator. Then I shove it and the dildo back in my drawer.
This was a gigantic waste of time.
I’ll never climax again.
And the fact that I’ve now experienced it—with Braden Black, no less—makes the loss all the more profound.
…
The next few days of work fly by with few issues. Susanne Cosmetics calls on Friday to tell us how happy they are with the post and its result. Addie was right this time. They didn’t care about the filter to make their purple plumper look a little more human. They’re only interested in results. In fact, they have a new offer for their skin-tightening serum. Addie won’t be happy about that.
A few followers complained that the color was different from Addie’s “selfie.” I privately messaged them to remind them about Susanne’s money-back guarantee, and then I deleted the comments.
Easy enough week.
Except that four days ago, that fateful Tuesday evening, I drank Wild Turkey with Braden Black and ended up in his bed.
I shake my head to clear it. Best not to dwell on something I have no power over. But damn, I hate not having control.
I definitely have no control over Braden Black.
Addie exits her office. “I’m out of here, Skye. Have a great weekend.”
“You too,” I say. “I’ll be in touch if anything comes up with the posts.”
“Great,” she says and swiftly leaves. The door swings shut behind her.
I power everything down for the weekend, reveling in my freedom. I still need to watch the current posts, but Addie doesn’t have any shoots this weekend.
“I’m free as a bird,” I say out loud, smiling.
“Good to know,” a low voice says.
I jerk my gaze upward.
Braden is standing in the doorway.
My whole body tightens, as if someone wrapped me in clear cellophane. “How did you get in here?”
“Same way I get anywhere. I walked through the door.”
“Sorry. Addie’s already gone for the day.”
“Why would you think I came to see Addie? You witnessed our last encounter.”
I open my mouth, but nothing emerges. I shut it quickly. What am I supposed to say?
“I came to see you, Skye.”
I cross my arms. “You could have called.”
“Why? And miss that look of adorable perplexity on your pretty face? Besides, you never gave me your cell phone number.”
“You know where I work.”
“Maybe I didn’t want to put you in the awkward position of taking a phone call at work.”
“So you showed up at my work instead?”
“I figured it’s nearly quitting time.”
“What if Addie had been here?”
“Then Addie would have been here.”
“But you… She…”
He takes a step toward me. “Do you really think I give a damn if Addison Ames crosses my path? She doesn’t scare me, Skye. In fact, she’s probably first on the list of everything that doesn’t scare me.”
“Oh?” I say. “What does scare you, Braden?”
He regards me, his eyes dark and dangerous. “Nothing.”
Chapter Fourteen
I inhale, trying to ease my jittering nerves. Already my body reacts to his presence. I want to walk toward him, grab his strong hand, cup his stubbly cheek with the other.
Just touch him.
All I need is to touch him.
That small thing would satisfy me in this moment.
And that’s first on the list of things that scares the hell out of me.
“Why are you here to see me, then? Can I help you with something?” My voice is so soft it’s almost a whisper.
He closes the distance between us. “You can come back to my bed.”
I move backward, stumbling slightly. Braden steadies me with his hand, and his touch burns through me like his hands are hot coals.
God, yes. Just a touch.
I knew it would be like this.
I ease away from him until the backs of my thighs hit my desk.
“You going to answer me?”
“With all due respect, you didn’t exactly ask a question,” I say, forcing myself not to stammer.
“True. You did. You asked if you could help me with anything, and I answered. Still, I think my response is worthy of a reply.”
I inhale deeply, willing my pulse to chill. I’m not successful, but I can act as though I am. “You’re not even offering me dinner this time?”
“We didn’t exactly get to dinner the last time.”
My cheeks are so warm, they must be crimson. I clear my throat. “A girl still has to eat.”
“Then dinner it is. What’s your pleasure?”
I stare at him. Really? He’s going to buy me dinner so I’ll sleep with him? Exactly what does that make me? I know the answer, and I don’t like it.
“You told me I was something your money couldn’t buy, but now you think dinner will buy me?”